Masquerade: A Prince of Tennis Fairy Tale
by inkedhymnal
Summary: Sanada is being kept under the thumb of his wicked Regent, Yukimura Seiichi. But when he meets Prince Atobe, he learns Yukimura's plots spread farther his barony. Can he save Atobe, or is he to late? Better summary inside. Loosely based on Cinderella.
1. The First Masque

Hi! So, I am back with another TeniPuri fic based on a fairy tales. Anyways, better get this out of the way. I do not own Prince of Tennis in any way, shape, or form. I also do not own Cinderalla, just in case anyone gets picky over that. I wrote this fic purely for fun and earned no monetary profit whatsoever from it. So you can't sue me! XP This IS a boy/boy fic. If you don't like that, don't read it, and don't complain to me if you do read it and you don't like boy/boy. You have been warned! If you do like what you read, please comment. They are much appreciated, as is any HELPFUL criticism (not flames). I hope everyone enjoys this new fic, and I make no promises on updates. School life makes things a bit wacky when it comes to updating. But I will update, I swear! Enjoy!

Here is the summary I could not fit in the little space gives us!

**Summary:** Sanada is the son of the late Baron Tezuka Kunimistu, but you wouldn't know it by looking at how the head of household and Baron Regent Yukimura Seiichi treats Sanada. Made to be little better than a personl servant to Yukimura and his two sons, Sanada yearns to escape Yukimura's cluthces and claim his birth right. Unable to stand the treatment any longer, Sanada attempts to flee and runs into the most unlikely of people - the Royal Heir Apparant, Prince Atobe. The two strike up a frienship, and it soon becomes obvious that there is more to their friendship that just being friends. But Sanada discovers Yukimura has plans of his own for the Prince. Can Sanada come to terms with the death of his father and his own feelings in time to stop Yukimura's plot? _Loosely_ based on Cinderella.

Enjoy, and remember to comment! Thanks!

* * *

The First Masque

_Plink, plink, plink._

Sanada watched the smooth stone glide across the water, kissing its surface at regular, shortened intervals until it finally lost all momentum and sank beneath the large pond's black surface. Absently, he fingered another similar stone in the palm of his hand (though some people could only refer to the appendage as a paw), and tossed it across the pond after the first stone.

_Plink, plink, plink. _

This was one of the few quiet, solitary moments in his life that he found he could enjoy. There was nothing to bother him, the quiet sounds of the pond's water and his horse's snuffling soothing when set against the grind of a busy household. He tossed another stone out into the water, watching it sink beneath the dark waters, leaving only a few tiny ripples as testament to its passing. When the ripples disappeared, so did the rock's existence fade. It was saddening in a way, but Sanada found he mused on such depressing ideas lately.

He turned when he heard the rustling of bushes behind him, calmly regarding the flushed and obviously irate Horio. "There you are," he squawked.

"So it would seem," Sanada returned neutrally.

Horio brushed himself off and straightened, puffing out his chest in order to make himself look more intimidating, no doubt, but Sanada found that hard to imagine when he towered over the boy by at least a good two feet or so.

"Master is looking for you," Horio said when he had his breath back, his unibrow wiggling like an ugly caterpillar as his jaw worked.

Of course Master was. He had overstayed his welcome at the lake. He nodded, saying nothing, and went to the massive black Clydesdale munching on sweet pond grass. With only a slight grunt he hauled himself onto the beast's back, the only beast in the barn that could accept his sheer size and weight and either not be crushed or make him look ridiculous. He clicked his tongue and gathered the reins, turning the animal away from the pond and back into the woods, ignoring the bleating protests of Horio. He had gotten this far under his own power; he could get back in the same manner.

Sanada guided his mount easily through the lush forestland, surprisingly subtle and gentle in his gestures for his size. He was sure neither to move to quickly nor to slow. He wanted to savor his moments riding alone with nothing by horseflesh beneath him and the forest surrounding him. When he returned to the manor, all of that would slide away like a clown's make-up, revealing the reality beneath the illusion.

He knew he was getting close when his mount raised its massive head, ears perked forward. Sanada looked away from the sea of tree trunks he had been contemplating, and regarded his home as quietly as he did everything else.

Seigaku Manor loomed just beyond the trees. Built in the traditional style nearly a thousand years ago, it was only two stories tall and only in certain places, but covered a large amount of ground. The roofs were a dull red; the tiles fitted neatly and precisely, the edges curled up thanks to the ancient belief that curled roofs repelled evil spirits. The house itself gleamed in the pale spring sunlight, the cherry wood walls polished so that one could see their face reflected on the wood. The front of the manor was only single storied, but housed a majority of the Manor's valuables. Rugs, vases, lanterns, and other paraphernalia that spoke of wealth in a tasteful manner lined the halls and receiving rooms. It had taken many years to collect those treasures, so why not put them on display? Not only did they remind visitors of the Family's taste, they reminded one of the Family's long history and influential power. Towards the back was where the second stories came into play. Guests and Family claimed the rooms on the upper floor, while servants and visitors of no importance made their home on the lower floors. The upper floor looked down into the private courtyard, where delicate and priceless flowers were tirelessly cultivated and several sakura trees made the summer and fall quiet beautiful – if you had the time to enjoy them.

But the Clydesdale wasn't interested in the manor. It was interested in the large, low building at the back and a bit to the north of the Manor, which were the stables. Sanada let the animal have its head, but kept it to a slow walk as they neared the building. He dismounted at the doors and led the black brute into the cool shadows of the stables and into his box, untacking the beast and giving it fresh water before putting up his equipment, and decided the confrontation he knew was coming could not be put off any longer.

He walked up to the back servant's entrance, slid out of his shoes, and slid open the wooden door to the kitchens. He slid into the indoor sandals all servants wore when within the confines of the Manor, and wove his way through the complicated network of halls and doors that made up the servants' area, ignoring the pitying glances he received from the other servants.

He made his way up to the second level and down a broad hallway towards a large set of sliding doors at the end. He slid the door back and entered an antechamber, filled with small pieces of finery that made any servant who had to clean them jump at the mere thought of touching them they were so delicate. He ignored them and made his way to the second set of doors and knelt on both knees before wrapping his knuckles against the wood and paper door.

"Enter."

The voice was even, totally devoid of emotion, much like Sanada's.

Sanada knew he was in trouble.

Taking a breath, he slid the door aside, rose and came in, then knelt and closed it once more. He turned and kept his bowed position, perfectly aware of the three people in the room.

"Where have you been, Sanada?" the voice from earlier asked with false curiosity.

"Exercising," Sanada said, part truth and part lie.

There was no sound for a moment. "I see," the voice mused. "And Sanada, tell me, what time is it?"

"Shortly past noon."

"Correct," the voice said with mock approval. "And what happens around this time on this particular day?"

"Master Jackal arrives for his daily tutoring session with Sir Marui," Sanada replied evenly.

"Correct," the voice said, and Sanada heard the rustle of silks as the voice's owner rose. "So now, Sanada, my question is why our dear Master Jackal is not here?"

"Because, Sir Marui was to travel to his home this day because Master Jackal has broken his leg," Sanada replied.

"Exactly," the voice said, growing colder by the minute. "So, tell me why it is we are just finding out about this change of plans after Master Jackal has failed to arrive?"

"I took the message and passed it to Horio to deliver to you," Sanada explained. "You had assigned me other, more pressing duties at the time the message arrived."

"So this is Horio's fault then?" the voice said like smooth, cold ice.

Sanada bit his tongue before the accusation could come out. Yes, it was Horio's fault. He had given the boy the message to bring to the man he now stood before, but being the addle-brained fool he was, he'd probably forgotten, or simply not delivered the message on general, spiteful principles. It was no secret Horio harbored no love for Sanada, being from the Master's original household.

"No," Sanada said. "I should have checked to make sure the message was delivered."

"Yes, you should have," the voice said in a soft, malicious whisper. "Now, we still have time to rectify this mistake. You are to go to the stables and saddle mounts for yourself and Marui. You will escort him to Master Jackal's and escort him back here when his lessons are complete. After which, you are to report back to me. I have a special task for you as punishment."

Sanada nodded wordlessly.

"Rise," the voice commanded.

Sanada rose from his kneeling position, erecting himself to his full height. He lifted his eyes from the ground, looking out dispassionately from behind his lashes at the three people in the room.

Sitting in the corner were two boys, roughly thirteen years Sanada's juniors. Each sported magenta red hair, though one wore it in a neat angular cut and the other's looked as if he'd just woken up. These two were Marui and Gakuto, the Master's sons. Marui was regarding Sanada with a sort of malicious glint as he chewed on one of his ever-present gummy candies – a bad habit no one had ever bothered to break him of. They both stood roughly the same height, both equally thin and lithe, complete opposites to Sanada's Neanderthal bulk. Both of them shared the cruel streak of their father, eager to play pranks and exercise what power they had within the household. Neither was as subtle as their father, but that hardly mattered at this point in their education.

Standing before him was the more imposing and deadly of the three people. His name was Yukimura Seiichi, also known as the Master, and Baron Regent of Seigaku manor. He was incredibly young for such a role, or to have two five-year-old sons, as he was only twenty-two. Sanada himself was eighteen, but that clearly made no difference to the man standing before him. Many people initially mistook Yukimura for a female upon first seeing him, for he was that beautiful. A narrow face with elegant features was framed with wavy black hair, the envy of many women. Like his sons, he was thin, but lithe, as deadly with a sword as he was with pen and words. In public he dressed in deerskin trousers that accented his legs and doublets with intricate designs that highlighted these features, but in private he preferred loose yukata or kimonos, depending on his mood.

And as Sanada knew so well, that beauty was only skin deep.

Yukimura Seiichi had entered his life roughly two years ago. Sanada's father, the late Baron Tezuka, had just lost both his wife and his head of household. Incapable of running the household as a wife had, he sent word to neighboring Dukedoms and shires asking if they knew of anyone could take up the job. Barely two weeks later, Yukimura appeared at the door, all smooth smiles and glittering eyes.

Sanada was instantly entranced and fearful of this new man. If his father sensed the same, he said nothing. Yukimura moved in the day he appeared. He quickly established himself as a militaristic taskmaster, forcing order on the household with a delicate, yet iron fist. The changes were subtle, but they were there. Yukimura had a schedule and a way of doing things. Either you did them his way, or you were dismissed without warning. Tezuka, being of the same military mind set as his new head of household, applauded the changes. For sure they worked flawlessly – the house had never been so efficient. But Sanada still felt wary of the man. Why would a head of household have such a military mindset and way of doing things? His mother had been attentive, but not brutal. Yukimura was not either, but he certainly expected to be obeyed, and failure was not tolerated a second time.

Yukimura also had no problem putting Sanada to work when he could. After his studies (both historical, economical, and martial), Yukimura could usually find a chore for him, but one suited to his station as the Baron's son. Mostly, he put Sanada to work in the stables, explaining that Sanada needed an education in horseflesh, as all nobles should. His father did not argue it, and Yukimura never attempted to do more.

After nearly six months living under the Baron's roof, the inevitable happened. Sanada had woken up from a bad dream late at night and slipped out into the hall, but heard a strange noise from the direction of his father's rooms. Going to investigate, he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex – and the two voices issuing from the room where his father's and Yukimura's. Sanada never said anything about his knowledge of this, and his father never broadcasted it, nor did Yukimura ever hint of their new relationship. It didn't affect anything on the outside, so it didn't matter… at the time.

A year and half after Yukimura's arrival, he requested permission to move his family to the manor. Clearly the idea of a 'family' shocked his father, since it sent him into a cold, dark mood Sanada had only ever seen after the death of his wife, Fujima. Yukimura obviously said the right things and smoothed the problem out, since roughly two weeks later two little red headed boys appeared. Yukimura explained they were his sons off his own deceased wife from an arranged marriage, a pair of twins. He had waited to bring them since he feared his position might not be permanent (the fear obviously set aside when he was sure he was a permanent fixture in Tezuka's bed).

Tezuka did not immediately warm to the children, nor they to him, and Sanada kept his distance. Like his father, Sanada never had a knack for children. But it turned out that this hardly mattered. Roughly two years and three months after Yukimura's arrival, Tezuka fell ill – fatally so. Baron Tezuka Kunimitsu died in early spring, and his death brought more than just grief. It turned out he had made changes to his will no one had been privy to. For instance, Yukimura Seiichi was now appointed Regent Baron until Sanada reached his majority at twenty-one.

And soon after this revelation, Yukimura made changes to the house. He dismissed half of Tezuka's former household and brought in people from his old home (people like Horio, who knew Yukimura's wrath). Not only that, but Yukimura pushed Sanada into a position just above servant in the household, gave his room to the twins, and sent Sanada to the lower levels. If other Lords visited, he permitted Sanada to resume his role as Baronet, but otherwise kept him pegged as far down the hierarchal ladder as Yukimura could. No one knew why there was this sudden change in the dynamic. Before, no one, not even Sanada, had suspected such hatred from Yukimura towards himself.

Ever since, Sanada had served as Yukimura and the twins' personal servant, and today's treatment was just one more subtle cruelty Yukimura executed.

"Go," Yukimura murmured.

Sanada bowed and left the room, banking the rage of over half a year of servitude that flickered to life inside him.

* * *

"For the last time, I said no!"

"And, for the last time, every Prince and Princess in the history of our nation has had a Coming Out Ball on their eighteenth birthday!"

Prince Atobe glared at his father, his cheeks flushed in anger as he met the uncompromising gaze of King Shishido. As impulsive and possibly high strung as his son, the King would have his way or none at all, which made the Kingdom glad Shishido's lover Choutarou (sometimes referred to as 'the Queen') managed to cool his temper and direct him towards more thought out decisions. The Kingdom also sighed in relief as Atobe displayed more cool headedness than his father, but winced at his displays of vanity and ego. To alike to get along half the time now that Atobe was nearly eighteen, it usually resulted in fights – like now.

"You _will_ have a Ball!" Shishido growled.

Atobe knew he was loosing this battle. Choutarou was usually neutral, but a quiet discussion warning him of the coming storm earlier that day made it clear that the Queen was on the side of his lover this time. And it seemed that arguing with his father was not going to get him anywhere either.

"Fine," he snarled, realizing arguing was no use. "But _I _get to determine everything about it, right down to what napkins the guests get on their plates!"

The King glared at his son, and Atobe stared back at his father with equal stubbornness. Finally, King Shishido nodded, and Atobe smirked. He'd won.

"Fine, but all your ideas go through me," Shishido grated.

"Fair enough," Atobe agreed, knowing he could twist Choutarou to make sure all his ideas got through. The Queen was eager to make sure Atobe liked him, since everyone knew Atobe always found ways to oust those from the castle and inner circles of society he found distasteful.

Shishido glared once more at Atobe, no doubt to try and drive home his point, then spun on his heel and left, his military boots clacking brazenly over the marble floor. Atobe watched him go, glaring daggers at his father's back. When he heard the door to his antechamber slam shut, he let out the scream of rage that had been building inside him since his father burst into his rooms and declared he was to have a 'Coming Out Ball'.

Atobe was not as stupid as his father sometimes seemed to think. Atobe knew he was vain and egotistical (he had right to be, thank you very much), but he wasn't a fool. The 'Coming Out Ball' was called a tradition – a special banquet/dance held for all Princes and Princesses of the kingdom on their eighteenth birthday. Officially it was thrown to represent that prince or princess's arrival into adult hood, and their ability to take over the role as King or Queen at a moment's notice. Unofficially, it was like slapping a big red sign on said prince or princess with big, bright red letters that said 'IT IS NOW APPROPIATE TO MAKE A BID FOR MARRIAGE'. The balls were usually filled with hundreds of upper rank nobles and their daughters, not to mention a few dignitaries from nearby kingdoms. As much as the banquet was a way to say Atobe was ready to become King, it was more a way to scout a potential wife, and in a few instances in the past had turned into a betrothal ball.

It was not that Atobe disliked the idea of women fawning over him, it was the idea of him being displayed as a piece of meat before others, and whoever made the best offer got him as the prize. It irked him to no end, and if he had anything to say about it, that was not how his ball would be run!

In years past, the Coming Out Balls had the reputation for being unbearably formal. Well, Atobe had plans to change that. For one, he planned to have his ball themed. A Masquerade! That would throw a wrench in the plans of those mothers and fathers trying to thrust their children into prominent positions in the kingdom, and kept Atobe from having to sit on dais all night. In fact, he planned to remove the royal dais from the enter set up! There would be two royal chairs – one for King Shishido, and one for his lover. Atobe would not have one. He planned to move among the crowd, masked, speaking, dancing, singing at his own will. He refused to be kept to a chair, and with masks he could more easily speak to potential wives and judge for himself who would be the best match. Having his father choose his bride for him seemed too informal, as much as he knew he probably wouldn't like the girl he was hitched to anyways.

And even better – he planned to move the whole affair _outside_. There would be grand tents and gardens, and if he had his way there would be a literal circus lining the walk to the royal tent. His Coming Out Ball would go down in history as either the most amazing display of royal taste ever, or the greatest scandal. Either way, Atobe would have his way.

But he needed to plan everything out, and he wouldn't get much planning done in the castle. Despite what a lot of people thought, the castle was actually quite noisy. It housed a host of dignitaries and visiting lords with their retinues. Servants scurried back and forth trying to please one or more lords, soldiers switched shifts or walked by on patrol, lords bellowed at each other or laughed amiably. Peace was a thing rarely found in the palace except in the dead of night.

So that meant going out. Perfect.

"Yuushi!" be bellowed as he went to his wardrobe and starting picking out his favorite riding clothes.

There was the soft clacking of boots and Atobe peered around the door of his wardrobe to watch as his best friend and personal bodyguard entered his room. Yuushi was a handsome fellow, with a masculine narrow face, a delicate nose upon which perched a pair of silver and glass spectacles you hardly noticed if you didn't know he actually wore them, pleasantly thin lips, and narrow eyes that sparkled with a semi-malicious intelligence Atobe admired. His blue hair was brushed to a sheen, and for all that was he was dressed as immaculately as one could be, Yuushi's hair feel to his chin in a spray of messy wisps that made him far more handsome than one thought possible.

Atobe never understood why Yuushi submitted himself to being Atobe's bodyguard. Even though he called his bodyguard Yuushi, his full name was Lord Oshitari Yuushi, second in line for the title Duke Oshitari, and to some degree in line for the throne (which he wouldn't see in his lifetime if Atobe remained hale and healthy and produced heirs). He had met the man at a young age at his 'Royal Ascendance Ball' – basically an overly pompous and overdone birthday party when he turned eight – or, when he looked back on it, it was more like Yuushi had been presented to him as a gift. It was not uncommon for the highest ranking lords to send second and third sons into the service of the royal family personally, and Duke Oshitari had enough influence to maneuver Yuushi into one of the most prominent of such positions – Atobe's personal bodyguard. Ten years later Yuushi was still here, and Atobe's truest friend and confidant.

"You called?" Yuushi asked, not even bothering to pretend to be the ever respectful and obedient bodyguard he technically was.

Atobe came out from behind the wardrobe's doors, lacing up the front of his riding britches. "We're going out," he informed Yuushi.

Yuushi's eyes raked Atobe up and down over the rim of his glasses, making Atobe wonder if Yuushi was undressing him or dressing him down in his mind. It was one of the few looks from his friend he had never quite been able to figure out.

"Very well," Yuushi agreed. "Shall I send the pages to get Hyotei ready?"

Hyotei was Atobe's state gelding – a great white beast that was identifiable from a mile away. He glared at Yuushi, and Yuushi simply smirked back. He so did love being a smart ass, no doubt reveling in the privilege of being able to get away with it in Atobe's presence.

"If I wanted to get caught, yes," Atobe snapped as he pulled out his favorite pair of knee high riding boots and slipped them on. "Tell them to ready Kabaji."

Kabaji was a large draft animal, gentle in nature and action, and usually used as a training animal for visit children of lords and ladies' that wished to learn to ride. Nondescript and certainly not the type of animal a prince usually rode, Kabaji was perfect for sneaking out on horseback and going unnoticed.

"As you say," Yuushi said, starting to turn on his heel.

"Oh, and Yuushi," Atobe called as he opened a trunk and pulled out a worn riding vest.

"Yes, Keigo?" Yuushi arched a perfect blue brow.

"Pack some snacks," Atobe smirked.

Yuushi's lips split in what amounted to a gentle smile for him. "As you wish." He completed his turn and headed out to the hall to flag down the nearest pageboy, leaving Atobe to finish dressing for his impromptu outing.


	2. The Second Masque

The Second Masque

"First things first – the guest list," Atobe sighed.

Yuushi made no objects as he and Atobe quietly urged their horses through the long reeds beside a pond they happened upon in their wanderings. Yuushi had expressed concerns they were trespassing, but Atobe waved his concerns off. He was Prince Atobe. All the Kingdom's lands were his lands, so how could be trespassing?

"You do know you have to invite your father, right?" Yuushi looked at Atobe out of the corner of his eye.

Atobe glared at Yuushi in the same way, his mouth turning down in a delicate pout. "Yes, I know I have to invite my father," he said neutrally, which only earned him a smirk from Yuushi. Damn the Lord and his insatiable appetite for being a smart-ass! "And I know I have to invite your father too. I'll even extend to the invitation to your dear sister," he smirked.

Yuushi turned his face to Atobe, his eyebrow's raising – the only sign he was shocked and not a little scared. He knew Atobe would go through with his threats, and Atobe intended too. He smiled back serenely at Yuushi, and the other man finally turned away, resigning himself to his punishment for being a smart-ass. Atobe only let him get with it for so long before retaliation was required.

"So, all the high ranking lords and ladies," Atobe murmured as he thought about it, nudging Kabaji as the animal snuck a reed for a snack as they plodded along.

"Don't forget to include all attending dignitaries with marriageable relatives or royalty," Yuushi cautioned.

"Must I?" Atobe wrinkled his nose.

The dignitaries were mostly pompous, egotistical brats in men's bodies. Inviting them to the ball so they could try to get him to marry people who weren't even there for Atobe to meet seemed ridiculous. But if he didn't, it could be taken as a slight to that dignitary's nation, and then Atobe would never hear the end of it. So, yes, the dignitaries were on the list – but he'd place them further back in the royal tent so he wouldn't have to listen to them chatter the entire time during dinner.

Yuushi scribbled something on a pad of paper with a piece of charcoal, easily guiding his mount with his legs. The animal was to well trained to do anything but follow Yuushi's silent signals. Atobe had always been amazed at Yuushi's ability to multi-task, but he supposed attempting to keep up with him over the years had made the ability invaluable.

"What about…" Yuushi paused to cough. "What about Sir Sakaki?"

Atobe stiffened and looked over Yuushi as if he had just admitted he planned to murder Atobe in his sleep that very night. Yuushi just leveled his own gaze Atobe, waiting patiently.

Sir Sakaki– also known as Sakaki of the Black Wood – was, for all intents and purposes, Atobe's godfather. Sakaki held no rank and no valuable title, but he held a great deal of respect from people within the kingdom, including his father. No one knew Sakaki's real age, though everyone knew he had been Shishido's teacher since he was young, which meant he was at least in his forties or older, but looked in his early thirties. Rumors surrounded him, mostly due to his high degree of secrecy. He only appeared at Royal functions he was specifically called by Shishido, and the only times in Atobe's memory those had been was for Atobe's eighth birthday (when he was formally introduced to his Godfather), and when Atobe had been around thirteen and near calamity had fallen when a slighted dignitary cried potential war. Whatever Sakaki had said or done alleviated the problem, and the Kingdom was left in peace. Outside of his appearances, Sakaki remained in his holdings towards the northeast, a dark forest to the back of his lands, commonly known as the Black Wood for its many black wood trees and old time tales of demons occupying it. No one knew what he did, though some suspected the worst of him, but so long as King Shishido made no complaints, there was nothing anyone could do.

For his part, Atobe didn't know what to make of the man. Shishido spoke nothing but praise for Sakaki, claiming it was he that had taught the King all he knew about swordsmanship and politics. Yet, the few times Atobe had met him, he was sure they wouldn't get along. Just as Shishido had his temper and Atobe had his ego, so did Sakaki carry this aura of obedience. If he spoke, he expected to be obeyed, and Atobe chaffed at that feeling.

But not inviting his own Godfather would be like a slap in the face of his own father and Sir Sakaki, which he suspected was a very bad idea indeed.

"Add him," Atobe finally agreed.

Yuushi scribbled the name down as their horses clip-clopped on.

"Now for the fun part!" Atobe grinned, though he knew the exact details of the guest list still needed to be worked out, but he would rather not think on politics at the moment. "We need to interrogate some of the minstrels in town and see if they know where the Tumbling Coin Circus is."

"The Tumbling Coin Circus?" Yuushi repeated with obvious distaste in his voice.

Atobe chuckled to himself. "Yes, the Circus! They are to be the main entertainers for the night. I want acrobats, clowns, fire breathers, sword swallowers – and elephants! We must have elephants!"

"Why elephants?" Yuushi muttered as he scribbled.

Atobe looked over at him. "Elephant rides to entertain my guests, of course! What else would I need them for?"

Yuushi clearly held back a smart-ass comment, and Atobe could only smirk at his friend. He so loved it when he dangled the man above a pit of snakes as he was now, with promises of inviting embarrassing family members to the party just for Yuushi.

"Oh, and make sure all the invitations inform guests my ball is a Masquerade," Atobe waved his hand idly. "Prizes shall be given for the best costumes, naturally."

"Excluding yourself, of course," Yuushi reminded Atobe.

Atobe sighed. "Fine, fine," he agreed, waving off the concern.

A strong wind suddenly whipped up, sending the reeds to whistling loudly, and Yuushi to crying out in alarm as the papers in his hands were ripped from his grasp. Atobe whirled, his eyes widening as he watched all his plans – no matter how rudimentary they might have been – billowing away merrily.

"After them!" he cried, turning Kabaji away from the pound and cracking his heels against his sides. He knew it was cruel, but his panic was overriding his sense of animal rights.

Unfortunately, it did not override Kabaji's. Normally a well-behaved and docile animal, he was used to handling small children kicking him, not a full-grown man like Atobe. His ears went back and he threw his head up in consternation, not appreciating the sudden pain in his gut. Atobe growled and squeezed with his thighs, the gentler form of coercion finally having the desired effect – though to late.

The wind had flung the papers into the large expanse of trees that ran along the pond, and while Atobe knew he could force Kabaji into the woods, he didn't think trying to find the papers from horseback would be productive since the animals were limited in the places they could go through said woods.

Growling his frustration, he dismounted from Kabaji swiftly and tossed the reins to the ground, Kabaji grinding to a halt and standing placidly facing the wood. Atobe thanked the gods for teaching the animal how to be ground tied as he dived into the wood, cursing as small branches scraped at his cheeks and caught in his clothing. Where were the papers?

He could hear Yuushi off to the side, combing the foliage like Atobe was. Atobe made a mental note to at least say thank you later, if he remembered, to Yuushi for not mocking him and coming to help. He knew in retrospect the act of looking for papers he could have just as easily had Yuushi rewrite the plans (the man remembered anything he wrote down), but it was the principle of the thing! He cursed as another branch scratched at his cheek, stinging more than it should have as he pushed aside bushes to see if the papers had gotten behind or beneath them.

He held back a cry of delight when he spotted one, diving for the page caught on a scraggly bush beneath the shadow of an ancient tree. He scooped up the page; a quick scan revealing it was part of the guest list pages, and folded it neatly to tuck in his vest.

_Crunch._

"Yuushi, did you find the other pages?" he asked, turning to face his friend coming up behind him.

"So, these are yours then?"

The man that spoke was certainly not Yuushi.

* * *

Taking a short ride to steel himself for his meeting with Yukimura now that he was back home, Sanada waited in the shadows of the trees as he watched the two men bumbling through his forest. Both of them were dressed to well to be paupers, but from this distance their clothes might also be costumes. But that didn't make much sense either, since Sanada was not aware of any acting troupes in nearby areas. Yukimura might not keep him up to date on all Barony business, but Sanada managed to slip away to the town enough times on different pretenses to know when troupes did come in.

He looked down at the papers in his hands, the very sheets that had spooked his mount so much he had to dismount and tie the animal to tree branch and advance on foot. The papers carried lists of names and other random notes Sanada could only assume referred to some sort of party, though that was just his own guess. He recognized some of the names of the other lords and ladies of the land, and when the man with soft violet hair spotted one of the papers that had caught on foliage and practically dived for it like a hungry beggar on bread, Sanada figured they were nobility after all. That or thieves planning a heist, but that he doubted.

Making his way in a semi-circle around the violet haired man, he came up behind him, purposely crunching a pile of dead leaves beneath his boot. The man spun around, the relief on his face quickly fading as he realized Sanada was not his companion (named Yuushi, it would seem).

"You're looking for these, right?" Sanada said, holding the papers out to the man.

The man stared a moment, then quickly gathered his wits and straightened himself to his full height (which was, impressively, topping off at Sanada's chin). "Yes, they are mine," he glared at up a Sanada, his voice a mixture of upper scale enunciation and light baritones.

Sanada released the papers when the man took hold of them. "Might I ask what you are doing out here?" Sanada asked him, deciding it might be wise to be polite if the man had the ability to speak with the nobilities' rounded vowels.

The man sniffed, and Sanada caught sight of the blue-haired man approaching from the right cautiously. "I was taking a ride through my lands," he informed Sanada.

"Your lands?" Sanada repeated. "I was under the impression these lands belonged to the Tezuka Barony."

The blue-haired man (Yuushi, no doubt) slid next to the violet-haired man, pushing his glasses up. "The Tezuka Barony? I hadn't realized we'd come so far."

"Indeed," the violet haired man sniffed. "My condolences to his family. The Kingdom was saddened at the loss of a such a magnanimous Baron."

"Thank you," Sanada replied, keeping the growl from his voice. He had had enough condolences at the funeral ceremonies.

Yuushi's eyebrows rose. "Are you… you are the Heir-Baron, are you not? Sanada?"

Sanada pushed Yuushi up on his respect ladder. "I am," he replied, though if they new what his Regent had him doing they might not believe him. "And you are?"

The violet haired man bristled, as if Sanada's tone were insulting. "This is Lord Oshitari Yuushi, and I am Prince Atobe, Heir-Apparent of the Kingdom of Tenipuri."

The names came as a shock. Oshitari was the highest-ranking Duke in the country, and had even been present for his father's funeral. That his second son was here gave credence to the other man's claim of being Royal Prince Atobe. Sanada's eyes flickered towards the so-called Prince, taking the man in.

Tall for most people, he reached Sanada's chin, but for his height he was slim. His face was perfectly narrow, no doubt the product of good breeding, with a fine, delicate nose and full lips that did not look out of place upon his face. Almond eyes sparked in defiance as Sanada regarded him, a beauty mark sitting idly just beneath the corner of Prince Atobe's right eye. His violet hair was cropped short around his ears, but somehow teased into a sort of curve that gave it a noble air. Overall, Sanada was not impressed.

"Well, if you don't mind, please leave my lands," Sanada returned Prince Atobe's glare for glare. "You're officially trespassing."

The Prince seemed to choke on his own spit as Sanada's word's hit him, and was that his imagination or was Yuushi smirking ever so slightly. Shock turned to appall which turned to indignation, the emotions rolling over the Prince's face with abandon.

"I never-!" the Prince spluttered, an angry flush rising to his cheeks.

"If you wish to stroll along the pond, please ask next time," Sanada advised in attempt to soothe the Prince's rage. Sanada had been raised to believe to be polite to all, no matter your station in life. He did not hold Prince Atobe or Lord Yuushi above this basic belief.

Atobe glared up Sanada, fuming, but seemed to realize Sanada would not be intimidated by Atobe's title. His cheeks cooled and he sniffed, tucking the papers in his vest. "Come," he snapped his fingers and marched past Sanada.

Lord Yuushi hung back a moment, letting his eyes drift towards Sanada. "What sorts of flowers would you like sent to your funeral?" he asked with a smirk.

Sanada narrowed his eyes, but the Lord moved on, unfazed, to catch up to what Sanada no doubt guessed was his charge. It was not uncommon for the most powerful nobility to send their children to serve the royal family as guards and playmates, and he assumed Lord Yuushi served both roles.

He followed them discreetly to the edge of the wood, where two horses were waiting patiently, munching on the lush grass near the pond. The Prince marched up to the more dowdy of the beasts, mounting with obvious skill. Sanada gave the Prince a few more points for choosing a mount that did not attract attention to himself. The man appeared to have some brains after all. The Prince turned back towards the wood, throwing a final glare Sanada's way before urging his mount silently to turn back in the direction of the royal palace, just visible in the distance. If they hurried, they might just make it before the moon rose above the trees. It was that, or they would get lost.

Once they were out of sight, Sanada slipped back into the woods and remounted his own horse and turned to the animal back towards his home, his stomach roiling as he remember what was awaiting him there.

* * *

"You're late."

Sanada winced beneath Yukimura's stare, and Yukimura took silent, malicious pleasure in that. It was not often he managed to procure such a reaction for the young Baron, and when he did it sent a thrill down Yukimura's spine.

He stood while Sanada knelt on the tatami mats before him. For a few moments he regarded his former lover's son, then glided forward and ran a hand through his hair. Sanada made no movement, and a pity for it.

"You know what I want," Yukimura murmured.

His hand withdrew, and Sanada rose from his kneeling position. He had a good six inches on Yukimura, his gaze indifferent as he stared down at Yukimura. Silently, he stripped himself of his clothing, and Yukimura took a moment to drink in the sight of Sanada.

Tall, but well proportioned, Sanada was broad of shoulder and chest, with a flat abdomen and well defined muscles that would make any man jealous. His skin was tanned from the time he spent outside, nicked here and there with scars from falls and scratches, but that gave him a sort of roguish quality. His face was chiseled, with a broad nose that fit the formation of his face, and thin lips that only made him handsome rather than undesirable. He kept his black hair strictly cut around his ears and the nape of his neck, a difference from his father who let his hair grow to the same length, but made no attempts to tame it.

Sanada silently moved towards Yukimura's bed, and Yukimura followed as soon as he too had shed his clothing. He slid onto the bed with Sanada, running his hands over the tanned skin, always amazed at how warm the future Baron felt beneath his palms.

He leaned over Sanada's face, staring down at him, finding nothing in the dark depths of his eyes.

Ignoring the pain that produced somewhere inside Yukimura's chest, he bent his head and pressed their lips together, letting himself forget.

* * *

It was a little over an hour later that Yukimura lay in his bed, the sheets rumpled around his waist. His back was turned to Sanada as the bigger man dressed and prepared to leave, neither of them saying anything.

This was how it always was. Yukimura found an excuse to summon Sanada to a private talk, but rarely did they talk. They settled into a pattern – each undresses, goes to the bed, they have sex, and then Sanada leaves. He no longer waited for permission. He knew Yukimura's presented back as the only words of dismissal he would could.

Yukimura did not turn when he heard the door to his room clap shut quietly. He continued to lie on his side, staring at the wall where his shuttered window allowed strips of light to infiltrate his room. After a few moments of regarding the window, Yukimura rose, not bothering to dress, and opened the shutter, letting the warm sunshine beat over his skin.

His eyes drifted over the sea of green that greeted him – a lush garden that was well kept by some of the best gardeners in the Kingdom, and beyond that the forest Kunimitsu had so loved. At that thought of the deceased Baron, Yukimura turned from the window and lay back down on what had once been their bed.

He pressed his face to the sheets, breathing deeply. He could smell Sanada's scent, a mixture of sweat, hay, and something just beneath it he couldn't identify, but made him think of spices. Tezuka had smelled something like this. Tezuka had smelled of paper and ink, mixed with the subtle scent of hay and his garden. It had been intoxicating to Yukimura – he often spent his nights his nose pressed to Tezuka's neck, breathing in his sweet smell while they slept.

What would Tezuka say if he knew Yukimura was sleeping with his son? Yukimura felt some guilt each time he took Sanada to his bed, but he knew he couldn't stop.

He'd first taken Sanada to bed the night after Tezuka's funeral. Despite what he knew Sanada thought, he had dearly loved Tezuka. He had not expected to come to love the Baron as he had, but he did. His plan had been to seduce Tezuka, to secure himself a place within his household, and gain a better life for his children that they would never have otherwise. He never expected the seduction to turn into love, and to have it reciprocated.

Yukimura, to be honest, had never believed he would find someone to love in this life. Before he'd come to the Barony, Yukimura had been the son of a merchant whose business was going under thanks to his father's gambling debts. In a desperate attempt to save the business, Yukimura's father arranged a marriage with a very minor Baronet's daughter. It was a clear testament to the family's own desperateness that the Baronet agreed to the marriage, and so Yukimura found himself wed to Miss Sana Ryuma at the age of seventeen. Needless to say, their marriage was a disaster.

There was no love lost between them, and none to be cultivated. Sana was a spoiled brat, and clearly not pleased about being forced to be Yukimura's wife. As a way to spite Yukimura, she refused to take care of the matters a wife was supposed to tend to, and Yukimura refused to have a shoddily run household. He therefore picked up her slack, and avoided her as often as he could.

Their union further deteriorated when his wife decided that she would not let Yukimura into her bed, and snuck out at night to visit her miscreant of a lover. Stupid as his wife was, she took no herbs to prevent what naturally happened when they tumbled in the hay – she got pregnant. Yukimura told her father they were his, but he knew the Baronet didn't believe him.

Nine months later, this was proven when Miss Sana gave birth to twins – magenta haired twins. As if that wasn't enough to anger Sana's father, two days after the birth, Sana died. The doctor's explained it was a complication of birthing that sometimes happened with twins, but Sana's father was beyond reason. The Baronet nullified Yukimura's marriage to his daughter, and refused to accept the twins.

By rights, Yukimura should not have accepted the children either, but he saw no reason to be cruel to the children when none of this was their fault. He left the children with a wet nurse in his father's care, determined to make something of himself so the children would never suffer as he had. He would not become his father, to force unwilling boys into marriages that could cost them everything. And he would not be his wife to ignore his responsibilities.

Embittered, but determined, Yukimura set out to look for a job, one that would put him near higher-ranking lords and ladies than the simple Baronet he'd been the son in-law to. Yukimura knew he was good looking, and if he found the right household, be might be able to convince his employer to give him more benefits than a mere head of house usually got. He despised the idea, but he was willing to sink so low to make sure neither he nor 'his' children would never be subjected to the horrors of an unloving marriage and possible poverty.

It took him some time, but he finally found his place in Baron Tezuka's household. And after only a few months in his service, he found himself enamored with his Baron. Distant and cold, the man had just lost his wife, yet he carried on with an air of nobility and pride that was awe-inspiring. His voice, so low and smooth, had sent shivers down Yukimura's spine, and he often found himself staring at the Baron, drinking in his handsome profile, watching the play of his muscles as he worked alongside his people in the garden, practicing his swordsmanship, or the stables. And he was brilliant, to boot. Intelligent, Yukimura found delight in the conversations they had that did not involve his work for the Baron, and evidently the Baron did as well as he started inviting Yukimura to dinners.

Finally, they both admitted their unspoken affections over a private dinner, and consummated it that same night. Ever since, Yukimura shared Tezuka's bed and his love, wondering if he would have been so happy with Sana if their relationship had been like this.

But the fates were not kind. Shortly after Yukimura got permission to bring his two children to the Barony, Tezuka fell ill. There was no warning and no explanation. Yukimura sent people searching in vain for doctors to cure Tezuka, but every one summoned said the same. Tezuka was doomed.

Tezuka died in Yukimura's arms, silent and strong as ever, out in the gardens he had so loved. For the first time, Yukimura had left himself cry for anyone in his life. The servants, by some miracle or their own pity, had not collected Tezuka's body till he had cried himself dry. He somehow forced himself to go to the funeral, but he did not cry. He was done crying. There was nothing for it now. Tears would not bring his Baron back.

But Yukimura could not keep his grief locked up. Not willing to lash out at his adoptive sons, he turned his anger on Tezuka's son – Sanada. He and Sanada had never gotten along, but he had never counted the boy an enemy. Now he feared that if Sanada gained the title of Baron he be would ousted, and would fall back into the miserable condition his father was in, and he was not sure he could find another lord or lady to endear himself to, not after Tezuka.

If that was to be so, the Yukimura planned to make sure Sanada would live through hell. It wouldn't matter anyways, since he was sure he would be out the door even if he hadn't done what he did, but at least this way he had an outlet for his grief and pain over Tezuka's death. He immediately dismissed those servants most loyal to Tezuka and Sanada, and called in friends from the Baronet's household he knew needed jobs and would gladly serve him. At the same time, he forced Sanada into the role of Marui's, Gakuto's, and his personal servant. It was petty and vile, but Yukimura didn't care.

As for them sleeping together, than had come about two days after the funeral. Still raw from his lover's death, Sanada had entered announced into what Yukimura now claimed as his rooms to bring Yukimura his meal.

In need of a distraction from the pain and anguish coursing through him, Yukimura did something he never thought he would do – he slept with another man that was not his Baron. That first night Sanada had not argued and made love with Yukimura, and Yukimura believed it was because he too was in pain from the passing of his father. That night they took comfort in one another, letting their shared grief soothe the hurt that was gnawing at them both.

Twice more Sanada had come willingly to Yukimura's bed, but he resisted the fourth time, and Yukimura knew he had found the hell he could force on Sanada. Unable to disobey Yukimura, who was now Baron-Regent, Yukimura ordered Sanada to his bed, and Sanada never disobeyed. His father had trained him to well.

Sanada was not Tezuka – he did not have his father's touch or warmth when they bedded each other. But he certainly had strength, often leaving Yukimura feeling raw and torn (no doubt payback for what they did), but Yukimura accepted it, welcomed it even. It kept the pain of Tezuka's loss away that much longer. It meant Yukimura wasn't alone, that the memories of his time with Tezuka didn't claw at the back of his mind. They were thin rationalizations for taking Sanada to his bed and treating Sanada as he did, but they were enough for Yukimura. Anything to keep the pain away was enough of a reason.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the pain and guilt eating away at him. He could feel his eyes growing hot, but he forced them back. Even alone he refused to cry.

Tears would not bring Tezuka back.


End file.
